


A Sakaarian Summer

by Pale_Laurels_Bleed



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Day Three: Summer on Sakaar, Dubious Consent, Frostmaster Week 2018, Heat Stroke, Ice Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pale_Laurels_Bleed/pseuds/Pale_Laurels_Bleed
Summary: Sakaar's summers are a bit too much for Loki, so the Grandmaster makes a proposition.





	A Sakaarian Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is ridiculously late for Frostmaster Week, but life happens. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

_Sakaar’s summer is nothing like Asgard’s_ , Loki sluggishly thought through the haze.  While Asgard’s summers were sometimes difficult for Loki, it was nothing like this.  Those summers were warm and bright, and the heat was tolerable.  His skin prickled at the burn of the sun, but the inside of the palace was always cool, so the high temperatures were avoidable.

But _this._ Sakaar’s summer was overwhelming.  The heat was inescapable, even the water was warm.  His skin was constantly irritated, to the point where the chafe of his clothes was agonising.  The sun blazed brightly, meaning he had to avoid going outside – although he didn’t want to anyway – and he had to avoid the rooms with an overly large sunroof.  His eyes watered and breathing was an arduous labour.  His mind felt clogged with cotton.

At the moment he was sitting alone on a plush chair where he usually regaled anyone who would listen with his life experiences.  It was too difficult to think or concentrate.  He stared listlessly ahead, unseeing.

“Heat too much for you, darling?” a voice purred in his ear.

He flinched, and slowly turned to face the Grandmaster.  “I am merely unaccustomed to this degree of heat.  It is hardly a discomfort,” he tried lying, a small smile flashing for the Grandmaster.  But he was not fooled.

His hands rested on Loki’s shoulders, squeezing slightly.  “Tell you what,” he whispered, his lips tickling Loki’s ear, “I’ll give you a nice cool suite,” Loki was listening intently, “if you do some favours for me.  You know, that quid pro quo and all that.”

Loki tried to weigh the pros and cons of such a decision but was finding it difficult to keep track.  He finally decided that the Grandmaster’s requests would _probably_ not be too strange or cause him too much damage.  And it would be dangerous to refuse.

Loki nodded his head.  “You’ll do anything I ask without complaint?”  Loki nodded again.  “Marvellous!  Let’s go to my room.”

The Grandmaster grabbed Loki’s hand and dragged him through the hallways to his rooms.

Loki stumbled inside as the Grandmaster shut and locked the bedroom door.  He quickly turned around, a dazzling smile gracing his face, showing all his teeth.  Loki began to feel uncertain of his decision.

Breathing became more difficult as the Grandmaster advanced.  His hands touched Loki’s upper arms, skimming over the blue leather.

He looked into Loki’s eyes, smiling smugly, he said, “Change into your true form.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Loki cocked his head to the side, adopting a confused expression.  “I am afraid I do not follow, Grandmaster.  This is my true form.”

The Grandmaster giggled.  “Hardly!  I can see magic surrounding you.  I want to see what you really look like, and then, then we can have some fun.”  He winked.  Or tried to – both his eyes blinked weirdly.

Loki took a deep breath, trying to keep his hands from trembling.  “Grandmaster, I – is it not possible to do something else?  I would do anything you want, but –”

“I want _this_ ,” he frowns.  “Are you saying ‘no’ to me, Loki?  You agreed to do _anything_ ,” his mouth thinned into a stern line.

This was hardly a choice, for if he refused he would anger the Grandmaster which could lead to him taking whatever he wants forcefully, and besides, he was at his breaking point with this infernal heat.  He needed relief.

Bowing his head he concentrated on the feeling of the comforting coldness which enveloped him the first time he changed.  He could feel his skin hardening, the light dimming as his eyes changed.  For a moment he felt relief in his cold Jotun skin, when the heat hit him much harsher than before.  He stumbled from dizziness, caught by the Grandmaster before he could collapse to the floor.

The Grandmaster chuckled.  “Well now, that’s – that’s very interesting.  Certainly explains the heatstroke,” his eyes glinted dangerously when he glanced down at Loki, still held up with the Grandmaster’s firm grip on his arms.  “This will be more fun than I expected.”

With a wave of his hand, Loki’s clothes disappeared.  A small part of his mind was screaming that he should resist, that this man was more dangerous than anticipated, but it was muffled by the excruciating heat and the relief he felt at having his skin bare.  Stumbling and swaying like a drunkard, he was led to the bed, collapsing on it with a groan.  All energy depleted.

The most sexual thing he has ever done with the Grandmaster was a blowjob.  He didn’t want to be too easy and lose the man’s interest, and he still had some pride.  Although, at this moment, pride meant little to him.

“It’s – uh – nice to see you with your walls down.  You’re always thinking so much, gives me quite the headache!  You should learn to loosen up, honey,” Grandmaster babbles on while sliding Loki up the bed.  Loki was in such a haze that he didn’t notice his hands being cuffed to the bed posts.  When the Grandmaster walked towards the bar in his room, Loki tried to sit up to better observe the man.  He yanked his hand up but was stopped with a jingle of chains.  Sluggishly he turned his head upwards and observed the padded cuffs encasing his wrists.  The chains connecting him to the bed were rather short, which forced his hands above his head.  Swallowing thickly, he turned his gaze back towards the bar.  The Grandmaster was walking back to the bed with a bucket.  He couldn’t see what the bucket contained, restrained as he was.

He felt the bed dipping as the Grandmaster went to sit by his head.  Something heavenly cool touched his lips.  “Open your mouth.”  He quickly obeyed and felt the ice chip sliding over his lips into his mouth, leaving a trail of blessed cold after it.  The ice chip quickly melted in his mouth, gone much too soon.

His eyes shot open when he felt a shock of sensation shooting through his body.  It was like a balm to his irritated skin, but almost painful with its pleasure.

The grandmaster was tracing a chip of ice along his neck, into one of the lines etched into his skin.  The way the sharp edge dug into such a vulnerable part of him sent slivers of pain mixed with fear throughout his body, along with the odd pleasure accompanying the cold-water seeping onto his sizzling skin.

He gasped when the Grandmaster circled his nipple with a new ice chip.  Goosebumps crawled across his skin as his nipple hardened.  Finally the Grandmaster lay the ice chip on his pebbled nipple, leaned down and closed his mouth over it.  The shock of the ice contrasted with the warmth of the Grandmaster’s mouth, making Loki suck in a desperate breath.  A tongue began lapping his nipple, his mouth occasionally sucking the water of the melted ice until it was no more.  Fetching another ice chip, he repeated the process with the other nipple, leaving Loki panting and straining against his bonds when he lapped the last of the water off his pectoral.

“My – you are quite a sight,” he said, looming over Loki.  His hand cradled Loki’s jaw, turning his head so he could look into his droopy eyes.  Loki was too dazed to feel embarrassed by the intense scrutiny.

Fetching more ice chips, the Grandmaster tapped Loki’s lips which he gladly opened to receive more ice.  It slipped in, but before he could close his mouth and savour it, the Grandmaster’s mouth closed over his own.  Tongues entangled around the ice, quickly melting it, sharing in its coolness.

The Grandmaster pulled away with a chuckle and leaned over him to pick up something from the bedside table.  After retrieving a container he nudged Loki’s legs apart, settling in between them.  Loki half-heartedly tried to pull them closed, muttering incoherently.  His strength easily outmatched Loki’s; he quickly and effortlessly pushed his legs apart, arranging them around him, spreading Loki obscenely open.  Loki squirmed when cool fingers slick with lubricant slid over his entrance.  A small whimper escaped him when two fingers breached him, the stretch too much.

“Shh…doesn’t that feel good, Baby?  No more,” he chuckled, “no more games.  No more teasing.”

He withdrew his fingers, dipped his hand in the container and started to stroke himself.  When he felt sufficiently slick, he tipped the remainder of the container’s contents over Loki’s stomach.  Loki gasped at the blessed coolness.

The Grandmaster lined himself up, and slowly began pushing his member into Loki.  His arms trembled, fingers grasping at air and breath stuck in his throat as the Grandmaster unendingly breached him.  When he was finally fully seated, a breathy sigh escaped his lips.

Caressing Loki’s neck, he said, “Breathe, honey.  Come on,” he patted Loki’s cheek.  Loki almost chocked when he tried to force himself to breathe again, his lungs felt heavy.

The Grandmaster stroked Loki’s stomach, spreading the lube over his chest, paying special attention to his nipples and sides, since that was where most of his Jotun marks crossed.  It proved to be extra sensitive when he was at the brink of a full out heatstroke.

Pulling back, he grabbed Loki’s legs and began thrusting.  A smug smile was fixed on Loki as his pace picked up.  Heat, pain, and ecstasy coalesced until Loki was a mindless mess, eyes glazed, mouth open and panting, rocked on the bedsheets like a doll, and hands scrambling uselessly for purchase, rattling the chains.

The Grandmaster let out a self-satisfied hum when he came.  Leaning down he stole one last languid kiss for the night, the friction between their bodies, especially where the lube was spilled, finally drove Loki over the edge.  When the Grandmaster slipped out of him, he observed his handiwork; a Loki, face lax with unconsciousness, sticky with fluids.  Almost the perfect pet.  He just needed more training, but there was an eternity for that.

He knew he had won this little game between them.  He looked forward to the next.


End file.
